Adventures in Game Club, or why earplugs might be a good thing.

We had our second chess and boardgame meeting today.

Let's just say that the noise level during the first ten minutes was nearly enough to shake the ceiling tiles down from the cafeteria. Picture 60+ kids (mostly boys, but a few girls, including Scooter Girl), walking very fast down to the cafeteria so they can get a table and the game of their choice.

They'd run if they knew they could get away with it, to be honest. As it is, Scooter Girl just about mows us all down with her bright yellow scooter. We need to put a horn on that thing.

We get there and backpacks get slung against the wall, games pulled out of the rolling cart cabinets we bought to keep them in, and it's mass chaos as things get started. It is painfully obvious that this one hour is probably the highlight of many of these kids' week. Fortunately Guidance Goober and Mr. Bluebird are here to help.

And then some little chubby sixth grader with big huge glasses who looks like a poster child for what happens when geeks breed comes up to me and asks, "Can I get a wisk?"

And I go, "A wisk?" I'm thinking a whisk broom of some kind, maybe similar to what umpires use to clean off home plate. What the heck does he need a whisk for?

And he asks again, "Can I get a wisk?"

And I look at him stupidly, and ask, again, for clarification.

And he goes (probably thinking the whole time that adults are such morons) "you know, a wisk. R - I - S - K."

Ahhhh. He wants the game Risk. I get it now. And I give him a Risk. And he is delighted as he plants himself at a table with four other sixth graders and they begin conquering the world.

And then we had our first eviction.

Spoiled Brat Boy was a member last year and was a student in Mrs. Eagle's class and earned a reputation as being a royal pain in the neck. He's gifted, he's a brat, he's lazy and he's a behavior problem. He also is probably one of the few kids who didn't grow over the summer so now he's in eighth grade and he has sixth graders bigger than he is.

You know the story about how mean little dogs are?

Well Spoiled Brat Boy was snapping at kids with a rubber band (I confiscated), was shoving some of his friends around (told to sit down, behave and get a game out), was slapping kids (mostly younger ones) on the back of their necks as he walked by (we never saw him, but it was reported by the sixth graders who have no problem tattling) and stole some game pieces (we spent 20 minutes with people looking all over for them and then he pulled them out of his pocket). He didn't once sit down and play a game and we suspect he was just there to goof off and cause trouble.

The stolen game pieces was the last straw (actually if I had caught him doing the slapping I would have called his mother at that moment). He argued back that he was "only teasing", and "having fun." He wasn't "stealing", "he just borrowed them". His first mistake was being an idiot. His second mistake was in arguing back at us. If his mother had picked him up (she didn't, he rode home with a friend), we'd have told her right then and there he wasn't invited back. As it is, since Mrs. Eagle had him last year and knows the mom, she's calling to inform mom that Spoiled Brat Boy will have to find some other way to occupy his time because he's not allowed back in game club.

Good riddance. I'd rather have a room full of chubby geeks and sixth graders than a bully with an attitude who thinks he's cool.